User blog:Awesomesix/Total Drama ERB Season 2 Episode 5: Last Resort
This episode took a while, yes. We had writers block for a month, yes. You smell, yes. The end, yes. Written by Wonder and I. Story Dante Cimadamore: I’m Dante! Mike Betette: And I’m Betette! Zach Sherwin: And I am a king! Dante Cimadamore: And this is not where Zach is assigned to be! Zach Sherwin: Please, I can be wherever I please. Please. Mike Betette: Today is a relaxation day. Heck, even Peter and Lloyd took that to heart. It’s just a day to mess around, and for the first time, show you where our old competitors wind up… the Last Resort. Dante Cimadamore: Here on Total Drama ERB! Mary Doodles: Yeah! George Watsky: Camera hogs. *The camera cuts to Cleopatra, Al Capone, and Rick Grimes’s room, where Rick Grimes’s bed is against a window, with Cleopatra’s and Capone’s near the door against the wall either side facing Rick’s at the end. Rick is asleep with his hat over his face wearing only boxers and a plain white shirt, Capone is sprawled out on his bed in fancy pajamas, and Cleopatra is wearing just a bra and underwear, with her covers over her entire body save her head, wrapping herself up as much as possible.* Nice Peter (via intercom): Rise and shine, competitors! It is 6:00 A.M. and it’s time to go over today’s schedule. Al Capone: Huh? Nice Peter (via intercom): Today, there is no competition. You can sleep in, but breakfast will be done by 10:00 A.M. Breakfast today is pancakes, bacon and eggs. We currently have agreed with Gandhi to use salt. You must stay in the parameters of the cabins, the lake, and the first 100 or so feet of woods inwards. We will keep you updated later, thank you. Cleopatra: Wuh… *Cleopatra slowly lifts her face from her pillow, which is somewhat damp from drool, hair messed up and sticking to her face* Al Capone: Good morning, Princess. Rick Grimes: I heard bacon… Al Capone: We’ve got 4 hours for breakfast, no competition. Wake me up when it’s last call. Cleopatra: Honey, I thought we were going to go over the cabin redesigns. You know, the two of us…~ *Cleopatra walks over to Capone’s bed and sits on the edge, putting her hand on his back.* Al Capone: Don’t worry, we’ve got all day. Rick Grimes: Eh, I can do that. I’ve barely done crap here. Might as well be useful. Al Capone: No, don’t worry yourself. I can do it. (Confessional) Rick Grimes: Yeah, I do stand by my point. Al does need to step out of the leader shoes every now and then. A team with a leader isn’t a team; it’s a… uh… shit, for a cop, I’m not good with government terms. Rick Grimes: Nah, I’ll handle it. You two rest. Besides, I can go ask Mr. T and Who what they think. Mr. T seems like the handyman type, and Doctor Who would know a thing or two about space. *Rick walks out into the hallway, stumbling upon Mr. T elbowing Lady Gaga’s door to knock, carrying a tray with of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, while balancing a glass of orange juice.* Mr. T: Hello? *Rick Grimes grabs the orange juice from the tray, as Mr. T sighs from relief.* Mr. T: Thanks, man. Rick Grimes: Just tryin’ to be handy here, no biggie. *Lady Gaga opens the door, wearing a somewhat normal pair of pajamas and woolly pink earmuffs, then waves to the two men.* Mr. T: Good morning, Gaga. Lady Gaga: Good morning! Rick Grimes: I’ll just hand this to you… *Rick Grimes slowly hands the orange juice to Lady Gaga, then walks off to get clothes for wearing before going to Who’s room, as Mr. T slowly walks in to Lady Gaga and Gorgo’s room, the latter who is snoring loudly.* Mr. T: Oh, so that’s why you wear those. Lady Gaga: Reminds me of Leonidas’s yawn scream… thing. Remember, when he woke us all up and everyone was arguing? *Lady Gaga giggles a little.* Mr. T: ...Yeah. So, where do you want this food? Lady Gaga: Oh, just set it on the side table by my bed. You're such a doll, getting all this for me. I wouldn't have minded going down to get it myself. Mr. T: *sets the food down* Well, you know. I'd do anything for my, uhh...my... Lady Gaga: Friend! Mr. T: Uhh, yeah... (Confessional) Mr. T: Come on, Laurence. Momma didn't raise no coward! Mr. T: Look, Lady Gaga. About us being friends... Lady Gaga: Oh, sorry, best friends. Mr. T: Right... About us being best friends and all... You're a wonderful woman, Lady Gaga, and I- Lady Gaga: Wait, you're not friend-dumping me, are you? Mr. T: No, no! Look, all I wanted to say is- Gorgo: *SNOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRE* *This frightens the two, accidentally causing Lady Gaga to spill the orange juice on her pajamas.* Lady Gaga: Aww, these were my favorite, too... Mr. T: Oh, I can go take than and get it washed. Lady Gaga: Would you? Aww, you sweetheart! *Lady Gaga steps into her room's closet and changes into a normal, frilly pink robe, giving the pajamas to Mr. T, who then rushes out of the room. Lady Gaga sits in her bed and begins eating, right as Gorgo wakes up.* Gorgo: Ooh, bacon! *snatches a strip off Lady Gaga's plate* Where'd you get it? Lady Gaga: Mr. T got it from the cafeteria. Gorgo: He's so crushing on you. Lady Gaga: What? Oh, please, we're just good friends and he knows that. Gorgo: If you say so. I'm gonna go get my own plate. ...what's with the earmuffs? Lady Gaga: Uhhh... I always wear weird stuff. Gorgo: ...fair enough. *As Gorgo leaves, the scene transitions to the Mario is a Big Fat cabin, where Bob Ross and John Lennon are playing finger golf on the dining room table while Joan of Arc and Peach sit at two of the chairs and draw, Joan very bored.* Bob Ross: Hole in one! John Lennon: Dude, you burnt the paper ball in a candle! Again! Bob Ross: Maybe you burnt it in the candle. John Lennon: Maybe I did! You still did it! Bob Ross: But if I did it, and you did it, then who really did it? Joan of Arc: *Sigh* ''I did… ''*John Lennon and Bob Ross glare at Joan of Arc, before going back to rolling up paper into little balls and flicking them at teacups.* Joan of Arc: I swear, they’ve done this like 12 times. Peach: They’re like a parrot. Joan of Arc: Yeah… Peach: What’d you draw? Joan of Arc: I dunno… *Joan of Arc looks down to see a bunch of random squiggles splattered around the paper, her hand drowsily moving.* Joan of Arc: Blasted armor. Peach: Why do you never take it off? Joan of Arc: I don’t sleep in it. Peach: But I never see you without it. Why is this? Joan of Arc: I dunno, I’ve grown accustomed to wearing it. Peach: Why not at least take off your helmet? I’d like to see your hair. Bob Ross: GOD DAMMIT, LENNON, QUIT HITTING IT INTO THE FIRE! John Lennon: The bunny did it! Bob Ross: Enough with your god damn bunny! Joan of Arc: Meh. My hair isn’t the best. It’s rather plain… Peach: Oh please, show me. Joan of Arc: Eh, it’s not like anyone thinks I’m a guy here… *Joan of Arc pulls off her chain link headwear and flips her hair around, revealing somewhat long, fair brown hair, around down to her shoulders.* Peach: Ooh, it’s beautiful. Joan of Arc: Thanks, Peach. Bob Ross: Woah… Joan of Arc: Yes? Bob Ross: Why does a dude have such long hair? Joan of Arc: I’m not actually a guy… Bob Ross: Explains the boobs. Raphael: Did somebody say boobs? *Raphael peers around the corner, looking around disappointed, then enters anyways, Donatello trailing along, holding a little wooden statue of his Gattamelata.* Raphael: Hey look, it’s two boobs. *Raphael smacks John Lennon and Bob Ross upside the head.* Donatello: Raphael, be nice. Raphael: I’m joking… joking. Woah, Joan, did you get hit by a bus or something? You look different. Joan of Arc: Wha- Donatello: Raphael, that’s not what- woah… *Donatello looks over at Joan, who is busy pulling off some armor pads, then shaking her arms.* Joan of Arc: I’m going to put these in my room, Peach. Be right back. *Joan of Arc leaves the room, Raphael watching her butt as she does so.* Donatello: Do you not understand how to treat women? Especially one such as Joan? Raphael: What? Nothing’s wrong with admiring a butt. Donatello: Over her eyes, her cheeks, her voice… Raphael: Her head, shoulders, knees and toes, blah blah blah. I don’t need you butting in on my butt interests. Besides, you seem to have interest in her. Donatello: Nah. Peach: Who does he have interest in? Raphael: Your friend, Joan, or whatever her name is. Eh, she’s like a five for me. Donatello: I do not “like” her, you idiot. I swear, that term is awkward. Raphael: Oooh, you lo-ove her. Donatello: Seriously, you sound like you’re five. John Lennon: I was five once. Donatello: Good for you. Raphael: I’ll go find her and tell her that you like-like her, Donnie. Donatello: Now you’re just trying to be stupid. John Lennon: I was stupid once. Bob Ross: I was a turtle once. Raphael: These guys are weird. I’m going to get all the bacon, see ya. John Lennon: I was bacon once. *Raphael shakes his head before walking outside to the cafeteria, leaving Donatello with Lennon, Ross and Peach. The scene then cuts to Miley Cyrus and Justin Bieber, Miley Cyrus pushing his dolly along the edge of the woods.* Miley Cyrus: And if you look on your left, you’ll see even more trees! Justin Bieber: That stopped being funny an hour ago. I swear, asking you to take me out for fresh air was a bad idea… Miley Cyrus: That’s because everything you think up is a bad idea. Justin Bieber: Haha, fuck you. *The ground suddenly begins to quake, the two looking up to see the giant Stay Puft Marshmallow Man towering just up over a hill.* Miley Cyrus: Shit! It’s that giant marshmallow man from the Mythbusters movie! Justin Bieber: Try again. Miley Cyrus: Looks like Poe is riding on his shoulder up there… Justin Bieber: Well, he’s a freak, so no surprise there. Miley Cyrus: Shut up. Let’s go say hi! Justin Bieber: So, you’re tell me to shut up, and then you tell me I’m going to go talk to someone. Not sure if hypocrite or stupid. Oh, right, stupid. *Miley Cyrus pushes Justin Bieber up along the hillside, making their way around to where Edgar Allan Poe and the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man are. However, when they make their way around, they see Napoleon Dynamite and Tina II with them.* Edgar Allan Poe: ...and then I said, after the strife, that’s not a raven, that’s my wife! Napoleon Dynamite: No, it was a raven. Edgar Allan Poe: Technically, it was both, that I’m sure. Then I went and divorced her. Napoleon Dynamite: Actually, it was a him. Edgar Allan Poe: What? Don’t be silly. I would’ve known if she had a willy. Napoleon Dynamite: Why do you think he divorced you? Edgar Allan Poe: Oh, right. But after the fight- Miley Cyrus: NAPOLEON!! *Miley Cyrus lets go of Justin Bieber’s dolly, letting it roll down the hill as she rushes towards Napoleon Dynamite, tackling him onto the ground and hugging him tight.* Napoleon Dynamite: Whoa! Miley!? What’re you doing here? Miley Cyrus: I’ve been competing in the show! Napoleon Dynamite: What? You have been? This whole time? Poe, why did you never tell me? Or her, for that matter? Edgar Allan Poe: I guess it must’ve slipped my mind, for I just never seemed to have the time! Napoleon Dynamite: You work here as a chef, so you see her every morning, and we hang out through the entirety of every day. Edgar Allan Poe: Alright, my apologies, but please, no tears. For we’re now reunited, like the Three Musketeers! Miley Cyrus: And also Bieber who I let fall down the hill side. Napoleon Dynamite: If Eve and Vader were here- or, uh, Hitler, I guess...then the final five would all be reunited! Miley Cyrus: He’s probably busy rotting in the Mystery Wagon. Stay Puft Marshmallow Man: The what? Napoleon Dynamite: Point is, I’m just really glad to see you, Miley. Wish you would’ve at least texted me that you were going to take part in the show. Miley Cyrus: Was kinda hoping it’d be a surprise, to try to see if I could win the show as well, so you’d have something to be proud of me about. Napoleon Dynamite: Aww, geez, you didn’t have to do that. You know I love you no matter what. Justin Bieber: Gag me with a chainsaw. Miley Cyrus: Gladly. Napoleon Dynamite: So, why’re you dragging him around? Miley Cyrus: He was dragged back onto the show against his will and I have to drag him around against my will, or I’m off the show. Napoleon Dynamite: Geez. Peter and Lloyd can be assholes. Miley Cyrus: Tell me about it. *Miley Cyrus walks down the hill and begins tugging Justin Bieber back up towards the other four.* Justin Bieber: Finally. Miley Cyrus: Shall we continue our walk? Justin Bieber: No. Napoleon Dynamite: Why not? Edgar Allan Poe: Indeed we shall, my female pal. *Gandhi comes scurrying up to the group, then stomps the ground for Edgar Allan Poe to come down, which he does.* Gandhi: You need to cook, Poe! BUT NO SALT! Edgar Allan Poe: I’m sorry Gandhi, I’m not able to talk. I was just taking Pufty here for a walk. Gandhi: NO, YOU COOK! *Gandhi drags Edgar Allan Poe behind him to the kitchen by the collar of his shirt, Poe giving Napoleon Dynamite and Miley Cyrus a brief task.* Edgar Allan Poe: I hope this isn’t too much to ask, but could you watch Puft until I get back? Napoleon Dynamite: Eh, sure. Miley Cyrus: Sure! Justin Bieber: I’d rather be neutered. Edgar Allan Poe: Okay, meeting adjourned. Take care of the marshmallow til my return. *The four (Miley Cyrus, Justin Bieber, Napoleon Dynamite, and Stay Puft Marshmallow Man) watch as Edgar Allan Poe disappears with Gandhi into the woods, then the former three stare up at the giant creature, who is busy playing around with his hat.* Justin Bieber: Fuck. *The scene cuts to Last Resort, with George Watsky and Zach Sherwin looking at the camera, ready to give a tour.* George Watsky: Welcome! We’re here to give you a tour of the losers’ home for the rest of the season, Viva Last Resort! Zach Sherwin: Actually, it’s just Last Resort. George Watsky: Shut up. Anyways, it’s not really active at the moment, since we’ve only two eliminations so far, Kanye West and Skrillex. Let’s see how they’ve been, shall we? *Zach Sherwin and George Watsky step inside, only to stumble upon the members of N.E.R.D., wearing prison uniforms using cleaning supplies as Gandhi whips them.* Zach Sherwin: Lovely. Gandhi: YOU MISSED A SPOT! Isaac Newton: Excuse me? *Gandhi pours a bunch of salt onto the floor, then wipes it around with his sandal.* Isaac Newton: I’m not cleaning that. The mess wasn’t there a second ago, you cheap bastard. Gandhi: But it is now! CLEAN IT OR NO FOOD! Neil deGrasse Tyson: Gandhi, for Buddha’s sake. Cut the crap; I thought you were peaceful. Bill Nye: Where does he get this salt? Gandhi: But they tried to KILL US! THEY PAY! Bill Gates: How about I give you a portion of my stocks? Gandhi: I DON’T WANT SOCKS! I WANT CLEAN! Isaac Newton: We heard you, we heard you! No need to spaz at us! Gandhi: BUT IT’S FUN! LET ME HAVE FUN! Steve Jobs: This isn’t fun at all. Gandhi: TAKE A SHOWER, PLEB! Zach Sherwin: Uh… let’s tour elsewhere. *The two hosts walk past the N.E.R.D. and Gandhi to a large living room, where Kanye West is playing The Sims 4 on a large flat screen T.V. above a large brick fireplace while relaxing on a giant, soft couch, with all of the people looking like exact clones of himself, except the Skrillex ones, which he is burning emotionlessly.* Zach Sherwin (to camera): This is the living room. Here, you can relax, drink fine drinks, and play games with friends. If you look here, Kanye is… *The camera zooms in on the Skrillexes burning in the fire and screaming while all the Kanyes dance around the fire.* George Watsky (to camera): ...I think this explains itself. Zach Sherwin: I thought Sims was a computer game only… George Watsky: Nikola Tesla had some spare time. Zach Sherwin: That guy really weirds me out. George Watsky: Yeah, well, shut up. Anyways, let’s move on to the next room. *The two sneak behind Kanye’s couch into a large, expensive kitchen, with bright white tiling, deep brown tables, delicately crafted chairs, enormous, crystal chandeliers and stainless steel appliances shining bright in the illuminated room.* Zach Sherwin: This is the kitchen. George Watsky: Have fun cooking for yourself. Although, this isn’t bad looking. Zach Sherwin: Well, shall we go upstairs? George Watsky: We shall. *George and Zach begin to walk up the stairs of the massive place, but the intercom cracks on, halting them.* Nice Peter (via intercom): Zach, George! Zach Sherwin: Yes? Nice Peter (via intercom): This tour is boring. Just stop it. George Watsky: After you forced us to do this? Nice Peter (via intercom): Yep. It’s lame. Zach Sherwin: Ugh, fine. So much for this. George Watsky: So much for being here. Zach Sherwin: Say, wanna play Sims with Kanye West? George Watsky: Sure. *The two walk down to Kanye West, with Skrillex watching them carefully around a wall at the top of the stairs, before he pulls back behind it. The scene then cuts to Al Capone drinking hot coffee and eating bacon on a lunch tray in his bed, thinking of ways to fix the cabin, as Cleopatra walks in, swaying her hips provocatively, not catching Al Capone’s attention, which is instead cast on a giant, brown Hobo Spider across from his face above Cleo’s bed, casually eating a fly.* Cleopatra: Oh, Al. How’re you?~ Al Capone: Gimme a sec. *Al slowly sits up on the bed, then grabs an old book from a shelf above him, sneaks over to the spider, smacking it quickly with the book. He then tosses the book out the window, casting it onto Luigi’s head.* Luigi: OW OW OWWWIE! Cleopatra: Sooo, Al, what’re you doing up here? *Al Capone walks over to his bed, sits down, and chews on the last piece of bacon, then puts the tray on a night stand at the end of his bed.* Al Capone: Nothing much, just figurin’ what to do with this junkuva cabin. *Cleopatra walks over to Al, then sits next to him, and puts her hand onto his.* Al Capone: That’s what you wanna do, ain’t it? Cleopatra: No, honey. Al Capone: Don’t see whatcha need from me, then. Cleopatra: Capone, I wanted to talk about other things. Al Capone: Well, what’s on your mind? Cleopatra: Well… hm, how do I bring this up to you… you… things are changing between us. Figuratively, and literally. Al Capone: Uh… (Confessional) Al Capone: That was both vague and specific. The worst combination you could have. She tells ya what she means without tellin’ ya. You think you got it, but you can’t read between the lines enough… am I in trouble here? Cleopatra: So, here’s the question, Al; are we a couple? Al Capone: Sure. *Cleopatra looks confused at Capone, who stares awkwardly back at her.* Cleopatra:...sure? “Oh, I guess. Whatever makes you happy.” Al Capone: Well, yeah. Cleopatra: That’s not how this works, Al. It’s a yes or no, not “whatever pleases you” answer. (Confessional) Cleopatra: I regret asking him. He’s not the best with answers. I’m pretty sure we both remember the boulder episode. (Confessional) Al Capone: Look, I ain’t great at answering questions. I’m a criminal, I can’t give out answers to everyone and expect to live. I gotta think things through. But I may just be a shit interrogee. There’s that. *Cleopatra sits there awkwardly, Al Capone scratching his neck ashamedly, thinking.* Al Capone: Yes. Cleopatra: Huh? Al Capone: Yes, we are. Cleopatra: I couldn’t hear you. Al Capone: Why are you treating me like a five year old who called someone a butthead? I said yes, an honest yes, Cleo. We are. Cleopatra: How am I sure you’re not just throwing another answer to make me happy? Al Capone: Why can’t you trust me for once? I, honest to God, on alla my men, love you, Cleopatra. *The camera pans to Santa Claus and two elves, sitting on a window ledge watching, Santa Claus has a box of tissues in his lap.* Santa Claus: This is my favorite part, when they *sniff* start kissing… Elf #1: Wait, so this isn’t the part where the killer jumps in? Santa Claus: What? Elf #2: Dammit, Goggles, we’re watching a drama, not a horror movie. Goggles (Elf #1): I’m just saying. It always happens. Santa Claus: Could you two just be quiet? I want to watch the kiss scene! Goggles: Sorry. *The camera pans back to Cleopatra and Al Capone.* Cleopatra: I want to trust you, I do. But I need something to actually show that you really do love- *Al Capone grabs Cleopatra by her arms, pulling her in close and proceeding to make out with her.* Goggles: Holy holly balls, that’s hot. Santa Claus: I thought I raised you better. Goggles: Well, you did bring us to watch a random couple through a window into their bedroom. Santa Claus: Uh… *Santa Claus rolls off the roof and runs away, leaving Goggles and the other elf up there on the roof* Goggles: ...Shit. Shades (Elf #1): Well, this is going to end poorly. *The scene cuts to Hillary Clinton walking from the dining hall, just as Isaac Newton, Steve Jobs, and Bill Nye are approaching it, ready to get food.* Isaac Newton: Seriously, none of you have the slightest idea what that was? Bill Nye: I couldn’t make out what it was… what I did get was 3 sharp objects reaching above the surface. Steve Jobs: That thing must’ve been, like… 10,000 feet tall. I hope that… thing… isn’t alive. Isaac Newton: What could possibly be that big? Hillary Clinton: May I ask, what are you discussing? Bill Nye: Something we saw sailing to this island. Hillary Clinton: Ooh. What exactly did it look like? Isaac Newton: I have no clue. It was too large to see. All we could make out was- Bill Nye: Oh, wait, I remember something, actually. Steve Jobs: What is it? Bill Nye: It had some sort of… crown thingy. Isaac Newton: Please, sound educated for five seconds please. A crown “thingy”? Really? Hillary Clinton: How far out exactly were you guys when you saw it? Isaac Newton: Oh, you wouldn’t believe. We had just departed from Columbu- Bill Nye: *Whispering to Isaac* She doesn’t know, Isaac. Hillary Clinton: I don’t know what? Isaac Newton: ...nothing. Hillary Clinton: I’m not dumb. What are you hiding? Bill Nye: Why should we trust you? Hillary Clinton: I’m no Sarah Palin. I won’t tell anyone anything. I promise. Steve Jobs: You’re still a risk. It’s not something you could easily handle. Isaac Newton: Quit reeling her in to our secret, you oaf! *Isaac Newton smacks Steve Jobs upside the head, knocking his glasses off.* Steve Jobs: Sorry! Isaac Newton: We have no way of trusting you, Hillary. If you wish to know, look yourself. It’s not something you’d want to know. It could risk your chance on the show. Bill Nye: Oh, now who’s hinting in people? *Isaac Newton smacks Bill Nye in the back of the head, causing him to flinch.* Isaac Newton: It’s her choice. But I have no part in telling her. If she wishes to risk herself, then so be it. *The three N.E.R.D. members walk into the dining hall, leaving Hillary Clinton angry.* (Confessional) Hillary Clinton: What are these three hiding? It can’t be something that serious. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? What am I, a toddler? I won’t blab to everyone. This is just a waste of time. *Hillary Clinton walks out of the confessional angrily, slamming the door shut, leaving an awkward silence.* *Hillary Clinton marches back in, then looks at the camera, pointing at it with her fist clenched.* (Confessional) Hillary Clinton: I will find out your secrets, Lloyd and Peter. And when I do, make no mistake, I ''will'' spill the beans. I am a politician, I am willing to do whatever it takes to one-up my opponents. And I hope I make this clear when I say this, that I am your worst nightmare. Nothing flies past me. *The camera turns off, then switches to J.P. Morgan’s office, where he is discussing an upcoming challenge with someone on the phone.* J.P. Morgan: Yes, I would like to know if he can come host a challenge. *An inaudible, deep voice is heard through the phone, and J.P. nods to himself worriedly, answering nervous yesses to the voice.* J.P. Morgan: So, is he free? *An awkward pause fills the room, J.P. looking around nervously, then writes stuff down on a piece of paper while once again nodding and saying “yes” to the voice in the phone.* J.P. Morgan: So… it’s settled? He’s on this week? *The voice in the phone says something, and J.P. Morgan thanks them, says goodbye, then hangs up.* J.P. Morgan: Oh boy… *Goku walks into J.P. Morgan’s office, carrying bills and an odd smelling package labeled for Morgan, and releases the pile onto his desk, slamming the surface.* Goku: What was that call all about? I had to spend an hour outside holding this stuff… this package isn’t light. J.P. Morgan: It smells weird… Goku: Well, open it, grandpa! You don’t want that ugly ass smell flooding the room, do you? J.P. Morgan: Well… Goku: “Well” what? Just open the thing. It’s not going to bite you… *Goku stares at the package cautiously, then grabs a chair and holds it in front of himself as J.P. Morgan hesitantly grabs for the package.* J.P. Morgan: Easy does it… *J.P. Morgan opens the box slowly, delicately undoing the tape. Pulling out bubble wrap and some ice packs, he lifts out a small, wrapped tray of various meats. A sticky note falls onto the desk slowly, landing on the pile of bills.* Goku: Huh. Not so bad. J.P. Morgan: I guess this isn’t so bad… *J.P. Morgan begins to unwrap the meat, picks up a piece, and is about to eat it, before Goku picks up the sticky note and reads it aloud. J.P. Morgan then shoves the tray of meat into the garbage can to his left, then drops the meat he was holding in as well, jolts back in his seat, and screams.* Goku: What a waste, pops. J.P. Morgan: You know what, I’d rather not eat today. *The scene cuts back to the Team Mario is a Big Fat cabin, where John Lennon is snorting up a trail of white powder, seeming to be cocaine.* John Lennon: Ahh… So, have you seen them recently? Bob Ross: Seen who? John Lennon: Man, you know. The big crazy lizard men. Bob Ross: The turtles? Nah. Haven’t seen them for a year now. I think I got cured up and everything. John Lennon: Cured? Bob Ross: I dunno, man. Don’t remember what happened after I quit, but man, did I come back feeling better than ever! Haven’t seen the turtles since. Feel so much more at ease. Just me and you now, bro. John Lennon: And the bunny. Bob Ross: Oh, right, the bunny that’s harassing you! John Lennon: Thankfully, not as much. But I still see him every now and again. I thought I finally killed the bunny man once, but it was just my neighbor. Jail’s a bitch…luckily I'' wasn’t. Bob Ross: I hear that, bro. Don’t worry, though. I always got your back! John Lennon: Thanks, man. One day, I swear, I’m gonna kill that bunny man. ''*Suddenly, Luigi stumbles into the room, a jar stuck on his head. He trips and falls, Bob Ross helping him up.* Luigi: Owie. John Lennon: Aha! Ah, man, dude, you look ridiculous. Luigi: Aww… Meanie. *Luigi tugs on the jar a bit, before Bob Ross tries helping.* Bob Ross: Damn, bro. This is seriously stuck tight. Lennon, lend a bro a hand, will ya? *John Lennon walks over, tugging on the jar with Bob Ross. After a few seconds, John Lennon starts pulling harder and harder, stepping down on Luigi’s foot as he really pulls at it.* Luigi: Ow… Ow! Owww!! Owowowow!! Bob Ross: Johnny, you’re hurting him! *John Lennon ignores Luigi’s cries, pulling as hard as he can at the jar before it finally slides off, being flung across the room before shattering against a wall. An awkward pause ensues as Luigi rubs his nose and neck in pain, Bob Ross blinking as he looks at John Lennon, before the latter turns and makes his way out of the room.* Bob Ross: You okay, greenie? Luigi: Yeah. I’m-a okay. *The scene transitions to William Wallace and Captain Kirk in another part of the cabin, William Wallace sharpening his blade and Captain Kirk fiddling with his phaser.* William Wallace: Say, did they take that contraption away from ya? Captain Kirk: I… stole it back from… them the previous day, before… the N.E.R.D.s arrived. William Wallace: And they never thought ta take it back? Captain Kirk: I doubt that Peter or… Lloyd are even… aware that I have… it. … did they not also… confiscate your weaponry? William Wallace: Hah! Ye think a warrior of my calibur only comes strapped with one sword? Captain Kirk: I feel as if… they didn’t plan this very well… William Wallace: Eh, what they don’t know won’t hurt us, right? I doubt most of the others came as prepared, though. Captain Kirk: A majority of our team is… quite foolish, after all. William Wallace: Ya know, for a weird nerd, you aren’t too bad. Captain Kirk: And I suppose… that for a… barbaric fellow, you’re… not too shabby. William Wallace: You really need ta work that annoying pausing thing of yours, though. Captain Kirk: … Thanks. William Wallace: Like that. *A few minutes pass by in the cabin, Wallace coughing awkwardly and Kirk fiddling with the gun some more. A few minutes later, Lennon walks by up to his room, closing the door behind him quietly and locking it.* Captain Kirk: So… today’s been… lovely. William Wallace: Sure it has. *A cricket jumps into the house, makes chirping noises, and hides under a couch, as Wallace tries to stomp it. Kirk shoots it with his phaser and slides the gun into his pocket.* Captain Kirk: This is one dull day. *The scene cuts to later, during dinner, where the employees are handing food to contestants that, get this, actually looks edible, and the teams are going to their respective tables. Doctor Who is busy talking to Edgar Allan Poe, who is getting him some chicken soup.* Edgar Allan Poe: I am sure this soup will taste great, as I so delicately put it onto your plate! Doctor Who: Thank you, sir. *Isaac Newton appears in line behind Who, confusing him.* Doctor Who: Uh… why are you here? Isaac Newton: They’re holding us imprisoned until they can take us back. Doctor Who: Oh, makes sense. It’s not something that can be done easily. Isaac Newton: The service in our confinement is quite hostile. Gandhi is true irony in the sense of the word. Have you seen how he directs cleaning? I’ve never seen so much salt spilled onto the floor. Doctor Who: Well, you know, flaws in the system. Isaac Newton: I just hope we get justice in the end. I do not like conditions either place. No free will. Doctor Who: It’s for our safety, Newton. Isaac Newton: Whatever. You know how I am with this situation. I cannot accept it. *Isaac Newton grabs an apple out out of a buffet trough, squeezes it, letting the juice slowly drip onto his salad, then proceeds to a third table, and quietly eats his food with Bill Gates and Albert Einstein.* Doctor Who: Fool. *The camera cuts to the Gangsters table, where Al Capone and Cleopatra are joking around with each other while hugging and eating, Rick Grimes is cutting the kernels off of a corn on the cob, Mr. T is eating alphabet soup whilst looking over at Lady Gaga, eating spaghetti. Marilyn Monroe approaches the table, daintily sitting in between Mario and Mr. T, and picks up a piece of lettuce from her salad, then turns to Mario.* Mario: Needsa more musharooms. Marilyn Monroe: Hello, Mario.~ Mario: Hello-a, Monroe. What is it you want? Marilyn Monroe: I wish to know what you see in Peach. Mario: Well-a, I see eyes, clothes, hair, a-skin- Marilyn Monroe: In her, not on her. What about her gives you interest? Mario:'' Well, she’s-a sweet, she’s-a caring, she’s friendly and-a nice to everyone. Luigi (in the distance): LIES! Marilyn Monroe: How can you see something in somebody so… dumb? Mario: A-what? Marilyn Monroe: Face it, Mario. She’s just your token hot blonde. Nothing else to her. Just a regular ditz. Mario: Who are-a you to judge her? Marilyn Monroe: Well, she ''does seem to get along well with Bowser… Mario: But she-a loves me! Marilyn Monroe: I doubt she really does. She’s just in it for attention. Rick Grimes: Now, you two, play nice. Marilyn, you ain’t got the right to say squat about relationships. Marilyn Monroe: Hmmph. I’m sure somebody likes me for my intelligence, witiness… *Mr. T chokes on his alphabet soup from laughter* Marilyn Monroe: Oh, quiet, B.A. Barack Obama. I’m sure somebody actually cares for me, and likes me. *The camera cuts to Raphael, sitting back in his chair and staring over at Marilyn Monroe, while Donatello quietly eats his spaghetti.* Raphael: That girl is HOT. And dumb. I’m sure I could easily score her. Donatello: Not everything is about sex, you know. Raphael: Don’t speak so lowly to the Sexy Times Guru. *Bob Ross, Hillary Clinton, William Walllace, Luigi, John Lennon, and Captain Kirk look over at Raphael quizzically as he begins to explain his nickname.* Raphael: Man, me and Leonardo were bros. He’d get all the ladies, but man, I’d get all the ladies. One day he got mad at me for banging this one chick he was in a relationship with, and he said “Hey, Raphael, if you’re so good at sex as you claim, why not give yourself a nickname? You seem to have made a shrine already.” I know he was mocking me, but I fuckin’ made a nickname in five seconds flat, shit. The Sexy Times Guru. I’m original. Donatello: Sure you are. *The rest of their team finishes listening, continues eating, and leaves, as Miley Cyrus and Justin Bieber roll over to the table at the far end.* Raphael: Stupid lesbians. The conversation’s over here. Donatello: Justin Bieber is a boy, Raphael. Uh, Raphael? *Donatello looks at what Raphael is looking at, seeing his eyes on Monroe’s butt, smiling pleased while scratching his chin and nodding to himself.* Donatello: Of course. Raphael: The shape there is perfect. Just admire it. Donatello: I have my own interests, thank you. Raphael: By interests, do you mean… *Raphael points over to Joan of Arc, who is carrying a tray of bread and steak over to the opposite side of Miley and Bieber, then sits down, having put her hair in a braid, in regular clothes instead of her armor. Nervously, Donatello looks down at his spaghetti and eats quietly.* Raphael: Smooth, Picasso. Donatello: Oh, quiet. Raphael: Shoving your face into your food isn’t going to make it less obvious. *Donatello stands up, grabs his tray, then scouts about for a place to put used silverware.* Donatello: I’m done, actually. *Raphael pushes Donatello’s shoulder, forcing him to sit down, then looks at him.* Raphael: Stop being such a pussy, dude. Donatello: Oh, and what do you know about relationships that isn’t a one night stand? Raphael: Well… I know that… girls love money. Donatello: See? You know nothing about relationships. Raphael: At least I’ve had one, loser. *Donatello stands up, shoving his chair back into a wall while doing so, then looms over Raphael, who stands up in retort and looks up at Donatello’s face.* Donatello: Oh, so a minute of sex is a relationship now? It’s how long you’ve last, I’ve heard. Raphael: At least I get some, prick. Donatello: Do you think I give a shit? Do you think that when I would sit in my room alone, that I wanted someone to bang the brains out of? That I wanted to be a “sex guru” as you call yourself? I could have done more back at home if you hadn’t dragged me into your little fraternity with Leonardo and Michelangelo. I’d be fine, I’d be off making money doing what I love, when I want. But thanks to you, I got stuck as that guy nobody could give half a damn about. Raphael: Without me, you wouldn’t even have a chance of being here, or even being known! Stop being a fucking imbecile for once and realize, without me, you’d be jack shit! Donatello: Did you hear a word I just said?! Raphael: No, and I don’t think anyone else did, either! NOBODY KNOWS YOU EXIST! *Donatello punches Raphael in the face, then walks off, looking over his shoulder, and storms out of the dining area, the others watching him in confusion. Raphael stares down at his plate, then smashes it on the floor, and sits at the table, putting his head in his arms.* Joan of Arc: What just happened? Justin Bieber: Somebody has their panties in a twist. Joan of Arc: Now’s not the time to joke around. Justin Bieber: Just lightening the mood. *The room sits in awkward silence, Joan blankly staring at the table, only the sound of Abraham Lincoln and his eagle soaring overhead can be heard. A few minutes later, Joan pushes her plate over to the side, calmly gets up, and walks off to the cabin, seemingly spaced out.* Miley Cyrus: Yeesh, what’s eating her? Justin Bieber: All I know is I’m eating her food. *Justin Bieber uses the elbow of the straightjacket to pull her food over, then gestures for Miley to feed it to him. She does so, and a second later he spits it out.* Justin Bieber: It’s cold, yuck. *The scene cuts to Lloyd on the dock with Dante, the latter of the two reading Fahrenheit 451 on top of a barrel labeled “Running Gags”.* EpicLLOYD: Today was something. Dante Cimadamore: Hmm. EpicLLOYD: So, stuff happened, mostly the usual. Tomorrow, though, we have an actual competition. With somebody truly giving. Dante Cimadamore: This is usually the cue where I say what you mean and ruin it, like I will tomorrow with Peter’s surprise for you about th- EpicLLOYD: Will Cleopatra and Capone last? Will Donatello and Raphael forgive each other? Is Bieber ever going to get out of the dolly? Tune in next time on Total Drama ERB! *The scene cuts to a dark office, where Peter is sitting behind a desk. The shades behind him are closed, no sign of light enters the room, and the place is quiet. Peter has his feet on top of the desk, and is looking to two figures at the other end of the antique furniture.* Nice Peter: Hillary Clinton is becoming a threat. We need to keep an eye on her. She’s trying to find stuff out, and trust me, we don’t want that. Last thing we need is the whole show to come to a complete stop thanks to one nosy politician. Do you two think you could handle the responsibility of keeping an eye on her? Wolf, Bloodhound? Ludwig van Beethoven: Definitely. Wolfgang Mozart: Certainly, my boss. Nice Peter: Good. Tell Fat Man, there’s finally a use for you guys here. Ludwig van Beethoven: As expected. Nice Peter: We’ve swept some things under the rug, but no one has tried to lift it yet. And we’ll be sure to keep it that way. *The camera slowly turns off, ending the episode.* Teams Team Gangsters: Rick Grimes, Al Capone, Cleopatra, Doctor Who, Kanye West, Gorgo, Mario, Mr. T, Lady Gaga, Marilyn Monroe, Sarah Palin, Skrillex. Team Mario is a Big Fat: Luigi, Hillary Clinton, Princess Peach, Joan of Arc, Bob Ross, John Lennon, Raphael, Donatello, Captain Kirk, William Wallace, Miley Cyrus, Justin Bieber. Category:Blog posts